


Kill La Kill Snipplets

by Han502653



Category: Kill la Kill (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Snipplets and drabbles, refrenced non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:30:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Han502653/pseuds/Han502653
Summary: A place to put some little works for the fandom.Chapter 1: Houka is surprised to find out that Jakuzure and Iori are friends--and also for once, leave an answer unfulfilled.Chapter2: Ryuko has a nightmare, and Mako understands more than she thinks.





	1. Let it be, Houka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Houka is surprised to find out that Jakuzure and Iori are friends--and also for once, leave an answer unfulfilled.

“Are you… boxing?” Houka gaped behind his high collar, confused and bewildered.

“Yes,” Nonon snapped back. “Gotta keep fighting ready somehow,” she forced out in a poor attempt at an unconcerned drawl. Anger coated every word but Houka, after a moment, was nearly 47% sure it wasn’t directed at him. She punched the bag with surprising force. He wasn’t used to seeing her fight directly; her Goku uniform was all about indirect, long ranged firepower. He put the scene away for future reference, even now unwilling to not collect data.

Houka stared at her, and then at Iori who had already gone back to his screens, and then back at her. “Here?”

“Why not.”

Houka didn’t know what to say. To say the least his data hadn’t even hinted at this possibility. He didn’t think the two of them were anything but distant colleagues.

Iori must have taken pity on him. “My uncle is Soroi,” he explained, still focused on his screens. Houka eyes widened, he hadn’t known that at all. How had he missed that? “So we go way back just on principle.”

He considered that, throwing out old hypothesis and making a new one. Iori and Nonon were old friends. They went way back do to Soroi being Iori’s uncle. Nonon had always said (or gloated really) about how she had been with Lady Satsuki for far longer than the rest of them but he had never taken that with too much accuracy. He had assumed a year or two at most, but this sounded much more than that.

If nothing else the two being friends did explain Nonon’s presence in Iori’s room, yes, but…

He was missing data.

Because while yes, Nonon staying in top strength was a good and logical motive, it didn’t explain her short, distracted tone or the pure anger of her punches as she hit that bag over and over. Iori hard at work, even at this time of night, even though he was almost certain that they were ahead in Goku production, was normal. The tense slope of his shoulders, the thin line of his lips, those were not. The fact they were barely paying any attention to him was not, not even telling him to leave was not.

His mind analyzed through every bit of data he could think of to try and find the missing link. He had noticed Iori disappearing on occasion before, it was why he was here, finally acting upon his… well to be frank worry for the shorter man. But now that he thought about it, Nonon always seemed to disappear at the same time Iori tended to be missing as well. He hadn’t paid much attention to that because, to be frank once more, he didn’t wish for her company like he did Iori. Though admittedly he has come to admit she wasn’t that bad a companion most of the time.

But that just lead to another mystery, why did these two make themselves scarce at the same time at a regular if uncommon frequency. Another realization of the data led to a somewhat surprising conclusion. The only other data point that happened every time was that Lady Satsuki was away from the school. Though they didn’t disappear every time she was away—only when… she was away and with her mother.

“Are you worried about Lady Satsuki?”

Nonon missed a punch and was smacked in the nose from the bag. Iori’s shoulders tensed more and he missed clicked with his mouse. Houka frowned.

“Of course there is always an inherited danger any time she is near her mother,” he started with. ”But if anyone can—”

“Just drop it, Dog,” Nonon snapped, not looking at him. He blinked, and then stared at them.

“It’s something else isn’t it,” he concluded.

“I said drop it,” she all but growled, sending him a brief glare that actually made him take a step back. She turned back to her bag and made her most forceful punch yet. “I know you’re a huge ass know it all, but drop it, you don’t_ need_ to know.”

While her voice gave him pause, a bit of stubborn anger slithered in. he hated know knowing something, and to tell him he shouldn’t know—

“She’s right, Houka,” Iori pipped up. Houka’s anger fled, his face going warm behind his uniform. Iori had never called him by his first name before. “There are somethings that shouldn’t be said, there are somethings that’s not our place or secret to share,” he turned to him for the first time; Houka studied the bone weary expression, the deep bags far bigger than normal. “And there are some things that you’re better off not knowing.”

“So drop it,” Nonon said from the corner, for a moment the anger was gone and she sounded as weary as Iori.

“If its Lady Satsuki’s secret,” Houka started, unable to think of anything else to say. Unsure how to go forward at all. “Then of course.”

Iori nodded looking almost relived. Then he frowned. “Why did you originally break into my apartment?’ he asked slowly.

Houka loved his high collars but never more than he did now as he cheeks burned. He motioned his free hand, bringing Iori’s attention to a bento box he held. “I noticed you haven’t been in the dining hall in the last day, I wanted to be sure you were eating…” he trailed off as Nonon snorted, his face burning more. He glanced over at Nonon to find her smirking over at him with a knowing look. “If I had been aware you were also here I would have brought two,” he tried, ignoring the fact they both knew full well he hadn’t even thought for a second to feed her.

Nonon snorted again, which Houka pretend to not notice, but the softening of her next words had him looking over in slight surprise. Her smirk had also softened (though her look was just as knowing—that could be a problem, Houka sweated) “Don’t worry about the Lab Rat, I make sure he eats somewhat regularly,” she said. She peeked over at Iori who had taken the bento, and was quite heavily studying its contents—Houka couldn’t help but notice the better color in his face, and a little bit of him warmed. “And sleeps, which reminds me.” She somewhat awkwardly picked up a crumpled paper with her wrapped hands and threw it at Iori’s head who looked up sharply. “You were supposed to go to bed an hour ago.”

“And what, try to sleep with the thumping in here?”

“Your bedrooms on the other side of the apartment, smartass.”

His original mission done (Iori had taken a few bites when he had been busy with Nonon he could see) Houka left as they argued. As he passed through the living room he noticed for the first time that there was a folded blanket and extra bed pillow on the couch—Nonon seemed to have been sleeping over—which only stirred his stomach more as he let himself entirely out of Iori’s apartment.

Iori and Nonon obviously knew something he didn’t, something beyond Ragyō’s innate danger, and whatever it was it wasn’t good, and for once he didn’t let his mind think over the potential possibilities. For Lady Satsuki, in this case, Nonon and Iori were right. It was better if he didn’t know.

Still, he didn’t think he would be able to take Lady Satsuki’s time away with her mother as easily as before.

(The next time they both disappeared he made sure to bring two bentos.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Nonon, and Iori being friends really intrigues me since they would have been around the longest, and since they've been around the longest, if anyone knows what Ragyu does to Satsuki it would be them.


	2. Bad Things Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuko has a bad dream, and despite what she thinks, Mako understands.

Mako woke to whines and choked sobs. She stared up at her new ceiling; mentally checking off each of her inner-friends to make sure it wasn’t one of them. Nope—and that meant—

Leaning haphazardly off her bed, Mako peeked to the bed below. Ryuko shifted in sweat stained sheets, wrapped up like a caterpillar. “No—” she moaned.

Aghast Mako gasped and tumbled over in her haste to reach the ground, falling less then gracefully to the carpet below. Springing up as it had never happened, Mako jumped on Ryuko’a bed and reached out to shake her friend awake.

Just as her hand touched Ryuko’s shoulder, Ryuko’s eyes shot open and she shot away. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled as she backed up into the corner made from her bed post and the window their new bunkbed was up against.

She then blinked twice, looking around the room wide eyed, before curling up into her legs and wheezed.

Mako reached out again only to pull back as Ryuko flinched away.

“Please, don’t touch me,” she choked out.

Mako frowned.

Ryuko stayed curled up in a ball, shame and fear and nausea coursing through her. Her mind taking for ever to just get over it and wake up. She knew it was Mako out there, not… her, not _either_ of them. Friendly tactile Mako who had done nothing wrong and wouldn’t understand and she was making her upset—the last thing she wanted to do and—

A blanket carefully draped over her. Ryuko stilled and stared at her knees for a long moment before slowly bringing her gaze up.

Mako was sitting at the far corner of the bed, as far away as she could get from her and still be on it in fact, her hands fiddling with each other, smiling though softer than normal. There was something else in her expression as well though in the darkness, with her mind buzzing and ghosts of touch still picking at her skin, Ryuko couldn’t say what.

“Hi,” Mako said, voice cheerful.

The cheer was both grating and comforting and Ryuko glanced back at her lap, pulling the blanket tighter around her. Through the lights of the street lamps below she could see the fuzzy pink heart of Mako’s new favorite blanket. Her fingers rubbed at it, the feeling far more pleasurable to focus on than on old ghosts.

“Hi,” Ryuko responded gruffly. “What are you doing over there?”

“You said you didn’t want to be touched,” Mako reminded. Ryuko shifted under the blanket and continued glancing out of the window. From here they had a good look to see the bay—as well as what was left of the academy, almost entirely dismantled by now.

Unsure of what to say, Ryuko just grunted. Mako didn’t reply and continued to just… be there, humming quietly but… it was so odd, wrong.

“What are you doing!” Ryuko cried after another long moment. She glanced back to glare and found Mako now rocking slightly, having pulled up her knees, locking her hands between her lower legs.

“You don’t want to be touched, so I won’t, but you were sad, so I’m making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Ryuko snapped automatically.

Mako stared at her over her legs, and then pushed herself up, flopping over to her knees, closer now, but still leaving some distance between them. “No you’re not,” she decided, smiling at her.

“I think I’d know better than you,” Ryuko growled.

Mako nodded. “Uh-huh, and you do.” She tilted her head. “You’re just lying to me because you’re a big Miss Tough Girl.” Her continuous smile softened a little. “But you don’t have to pretend with me, I know you’re a big tough girl already.”

Ryuko’s teeth grated. “Go to bed Mako,” she forced out.

“I can’t, you have my blanket.”

“Then take it.” Ryuko threw at her only to shiver. She had her own pair of Pajama’s now, comfortable, fitting, she was hardly showing skin but the loss of the blanket made her shiver none the less.

Just as that thought passed the blanket smacked right back into her face. Ryuko gasped into the fabric and then pulled it down to glare.

“No, it’s making you feel better, you can keep it,” Mako explained.

“I don’t need your stupid blanket,” Ryuko’s scowled.

“No, but you want it,” Mako countered.

“For crying out loud, Mako, go to bed,” she snapped.

“No.”

“What?”

“You’re still shivering.”

Ryuko gaped at her, and she stared back evenly.

“What?” she choked out.

Mako shook her head. “You’re still shivering, and your mind doesn’t get distracted like mine dose and forget stuff like mine dose, and you don’t fall asleep like I do, and if I go to bed now, your mind won’t be distracted enough, and it will think, and you won’t be okay, and I want you to be _okay.”_

Ryuko’s hand clenched hard against the blanket, the sincerity in Mako’s voice, the stupid _cheer_.

“You don’t have any fucking idea what’s wrong,” Ryuko spat out and then felt horrible about it.

Mako froze for a second, and then she glanced away and back again before leaning back on her hands, her smile still the same. She looked up at the bottom of her bed.

“Bad things happened down in the no-star district all the time,” Mako explained bluntly with too much cheerfulness. “And when that happens, a lot of times people go to Dad because he’s affordable.” Her smiled dropped a little bit, became less true and she glanced away into the room. ”But sometimes the bad thing that happened to them isn’t something Dad’s really capable of helping, but that’s okay since he knows some people that can. So he—or Mamma if they are uncomfortable with him—leads them over to them so they can help, and everything turns out okay—” she paused and didn’t quite drop her smile but it had dimmed to near nothing, her voice soft. “Okay-er,” she amended.

Ryuko stared at her jaw slack. Mako stared back. For the first time that night, she recognized the look in Mako’s eye, sadness. “Oh,” she finally uttered looking to her lap. “How…”

Mako met her eyes, “You were having a nightmare, and said no, and didn’t want me to touch you—”

Ryuko looked away first. “Oh.” She mumbled again, debating. “Mako come here.”

Mako didn’t move for a second.

“Please.”

Mako bounced over then, turning to sit right next to her, but just avoiding touching her in any spot. Ryuko blinked at her, Mako just smiled back, and relief and affection bubbled within Ryuko and she couldn’t help but reach out and pull Mako into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered into her shoulder.

“Why?”

“For yelling at you.”

Mako laughed then. “That’s silly, hurt people yell, that’s like in the job description!”

Ryuko couldn’t help to laugh tiredly herself. “Yeah, I guess it is huh…”


End file.
